


Of First Kisses and Lost Chances

by gaysinspace



Category: Captain America (Movies), Marvel (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Angst, Getting Together, M/M, Pre-Serum Steve Rogers, Pre-Serum SteveBucky, dumb stevebucky emotions at 2am
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-04-27
Updated: 2014-04-27
Packaged: 2018-01-20 23:55:57
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,267
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1530428
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/gaysinspace/pseuds/gaysinspace
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"Are you saying I couldn't conquer you?" he teases. Steve knows it's a friendly tease, and yet something flutters in his stomach. </p><p>"That's not what I said, but if you want to take it that way it's your choice". Bucky stops walking, and with dizzy steps walks ahead and turns to look at Steve. </p><p>"Is that a challenge, punk?".</p><p>or</p><p>The one in which Steve and Bucky share a first kiss and it gets pretty sad from there.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Of First Kisses and Lost Chances

Sometimes, not often, a certain enlisted soldier will get his best friend to go to the bar with him. It’s on these nights when he truly gets the chance to let loose. 

He always keeps his bravest face on when Steve’s around, putting on a facade in an attempt to trick Steve into thinking he’s okay. Of course he’s not okay, but he can’t let him see that. The little shit already attracts trouble like a magnet, it wouldn’t be fair to give him something else to worry about. He feels the need to keep him grounded, when in reality it’s always been Steve who keeps Bucky on the right track.

It's nights when Bucky truly gets drunk into oblivion when Steve gets to see the true fear in him, the childish fright in his eyes at the thought of going to fight. He never mentions it though, he knows Bucky will shrug it off and make a friendly joke to change the topic. Lying by omission has always been a talent of his.

Steve watches from a booth as Bucky does his usual stunt, scanning the crowds of faceless women for one more conquest, one more small triumph before it’s all gone. He plucks one out of the crowd, a pretty petite blonde (Bucky’s type) and watches him flirt her into a drink. 

By the end of the night he doesn't remember her name, doesn't remember anything other than Steve being somewhere in this bar. He finds him, staring at his drink, thinking about all the good men in the war. How his friend is one more faceless soldier fighting the war for a country, maybe one more nameless dead in the fields of Europe. 

Bucky tells him to stop moping, to go to a club to dance for a while. Steve knows he should get Bucky home, but that he would never agree, would insist he's fine. Of course he's not, the stubborn asshole, he's just too afraid to admit it. He tells Bucky that sure, they'll go to for a dance, that he'll lead the way. They're halfway down the road Bucky throws his arm around Steve. It's supposed to be a friendly gesture, but he leans to keep his balance. He doesn't even notice that they're on the wrong road, the road home instead of to the club.

After a few blocks Bucky looks at Steve confused. 

"You're not a girl" he'll say, and Steve will laugh because of course Bucky would think he's with a girl, not with plain old Steve on one of his last nights. 

"No, I'm not one of your many conquests" he'll reply. Bucky looks at him, eyes glazed over with the ecstasy of alcohol and something more, something deeper. He smirks, that silly lopsided smile that he saves for Steve, that could give light even in the darkest of nights. 

"Are you saying I couldn't conquer you?" he teases. Steve knows it's a friendly tease, and yet something flutters in his stomach. 

"That's not what I said, but if you want to take it that way it's your choice". Bucky stops walking, and with dizzy steps walks ahead and turns to look at Steve. 

"Is that a challenge, punk?". And Steve begins to speak, to compose himself and send another friendly joke when he is pushed against a wall. There's lips on his, and it's the best feeling he's had in years. It's sloppy, it's dirty and it's tinted with alcohol in a dirty back alley. And yet, he wants more. Bucky pulls away too soon, a glint in his eye. 

"I win" he whispers, and the heat of his body is gone as quickly as it appeared. Too quickly. 

Steve is stunned, to say the least, but he keeps remembering that he's drunk, that it was a joke. He wishes though, he hopes for some truth beyond the alcohol. They get home eventually, and Steve drops a very intoxicated Bucky on to his bed. He's asleep immediately, and Steve is left to wonder.

\---

The next morning there's a clatter in the kitchen, followed by a series of cusses. Steve smiles to himself fondly, Bucky has always been noisy during hangovers. 

"Morning" he says between yawns. Bucky answers with a soft groan, swallowing a full glass of orange juice in one go. Steve rolls his eyes, makes himself a cup of coffee, and watches Bucky struggle to make some toast. He doesn't know when or how it got out of his mouth, but somehow his mind decides to bring up the topic. 

"So, last night got a bit out of hand" he whispers, sipping his coffee to avoid going further. 

"Uh-huh" Bucky sighs, biting into a burnt toast and grimacing "can barely remember a thing...wait, what about that um...". Steve looks at Bucky, but of course he doesn't mention it, why would he? It was a challenge, and Bucky was always one to accept challenges. 

"That girl, the blonde one, what was her name?" he asks, and Steve sighs. Of course. 

"Susan" he says, the bitterness seeping into his tone. 

"Yes, her. Terrible dancer, amazing at drinking games though" Bucky laughs, drinking some coffee. 

Steve shrugs "judging by how drunk you were, I thought you wouldn't remember anything. I'm glad you remember something" he gets up to leave, swallowing the last of his hope along with his coffee when he feels a warm, familiar hand on his shoulder. 

"Hey, I wasn't as drunk as I let on" Bucky says, lowering his eyes. 

"Really, I never would have guessed" Steve attempts to joke weakly, shifting his eyes slowly to his friends' face. He sees something new in the familiar features, the laughter lines and scars that tell so many stories, many of which he was a part of. He shakes the thought off. 

"I do remember a certain back alley event" he teases "involving you". Steve stays quiet for several seconds, then blushes. He planned this, the bastard. Bucky smiles, forcing Steve to look up with the radiance of the gesture. 

"I'd like to retake that challenge, in a more sober, um, situation". Steve smirks, is that doubt in Bucky's eyes? Is that a blush? He lets out a hysterical giggle. Bucky's eyes lower in what seems to be embarrassment, and he begins to mutter something about having to leave to pick up bread. 

"Shut up, you jerk" Steve whispers, and as Bucky looks up he stands on his tip toes and presses his lips to his. The setting is less than ideal, in his kitchen on a Sunday morning with a very hungover best friend. But it'll do, it'll do.

\-----------

It's him, he knows it the second he sees his eyes. 

But it's wrong, his eyes, his stance, it's all wrong. There's no light in them, no recognition, no love. The word chokes him on its way out. 

"Bucky?" he asks softly, or did he scream? He doesn't know, the pounding in his ears is too strong, his breath is too loud. 

The world is crumbling, collapsing, everything he's ever known has fallen. Past and present, all gone. This is him, but it's not. Too determined, too robotic, too cold. He waits, the seconds stretching into hours, days, weeks, months. 

He sees him speak, he can't hear it, but he knows those lips so well, from whispered promises on bare skin. 

"Who the hell is Bucky?". 

And in that moment it all collapses, and the memory of the bitter taste of alcohol in his mouth and traces of burnt toast turn to the taste of blood.


End file.
